


Harper's Skill

by InkSiren



Series: Sharpe's Fanfic [6]
Category: Sharpe (TV), Sharpe - All Media Types
Genre: Brotp, Cannon-Typical Language, Gen, Injury Recovery, Massage, Patrick being the mom friend, Permanent Injury, Platonic Relationships, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27947096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSiren/pseuds/InkSiren
Summary: Richard's shoulder still pains him from the saber cut months ago, to the point of not being able to sleep. Patrick knows how to handle long-term injury.AKA Patrick knows how to brew tea and work knots out but he won't tell anyone why.
Series: Sharpe's Fanfic [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034673
Kudos: 10





	Harper's Skill

Especially after having his shoulder cut to the bone, Richard suffered from muscles seizing up in a way that was very difficult to manage by himself. He kneaded it with an absent irritation, unslinging his rifle and resting it against a tree at the edge of the camp they’d chosen for the night. They’d done a lot of marching and he could feel the tension in his back, his neck, all the way into that strange pull in his chest.

“Alright sir?” Hagman asked, and Richard nodded.

“Aye, alright. Only old injuries acting up.”

“Aye,” Hagman says, nodding and looking at the darkening sky. “Must be rain coming in then. We’ll want to cook early and get the rifles safely away.”

“Perhaps,” Richard said, kneading at his shoulder again and grimacing. He rather thought the tension was from the long march more than rain, but still the thought of settling under shelter and just sleeping it off appealed.

The trouble was, when he ached like that it stopped him sleeping, and that night was no exception.

After tossing for an hour Richard finally got up, feeling frustrated and exhausted. He worked more aggressively at his shoulder, almost abusing the muscles as he shuffled towards the embers of their fire and tossed a log on to heat it back up. Some tea might help unwind his body and at least lessen the pain enough that he could nod off.

He was hoping, at least. He didn’t even want to entertain the idea of an entirely sleepless night.

Patrick found him by the fire as he came off watch, and the Irishman’s brow furrowed as he settled his gun near his tent. “Something bothering you, sir?”

“Can’t sleep,” Richard admitted, gesturing to his shoulder. “That sabre cut still gives me trouble from time to time.”

“Funny that, when it was the bullet that nearly finished you,” Patrick said, loosening his collar and kneeling next to Richard. “May I?”

Sharpe frowned. “Aye?”

Patrick rubbed his hands together near the fire for a few moments and then turned, pressing firmly with his palms into Richard’s shoulder from both front and back. Richard grabbed at Patrick’s hand and made a choking noise as the pressure caused a spasm, but Patrick held on, murmuring an assurance.  
“Just breathe, sir, easy. Breathe. All the way in.”

Richard held onto Patrick’s hand and tried to obey, and gradually the pressure lessened. As the muscle calmed, Patrick began massaging into it, following the threads farther across Richard’s chest and collar, massaging around the joint and then up into his neck. His fingers were firm but careful, and Richard found himself melting under the touch.

“How’s that then?” he asked, starting to work around Richard’s back towards his spine. Richard groaned, dropping his head forward as his shoulders sagged in relief.

“I didn’t even know I hurt that far back.”

Patrick hummed, his fingers moving then to both shoulders and working down Richard’s back. Richard settled his elbows on his knees and rest his head in his hands to keep himself somewhat upright.

He forgot about his tea entirely.

“Hey, no no don’t do that,” he heard after a while, Patrick’s warm hands leaving his back to grab him around the chest. His head jerked up and he gasped, startling back awake. He hadn’t realized how tired he’d become all of the sudden.

“Nearly went head first into the fire there, I’d say it’s time we both got off to bed,” Patrick said, a smile in his voice. Richard shook his head and gripped Patrick’s forearm, sitting up and bringing his other hand to touch his wounded shoulder. Patrick hesitated a moment longer to make sure he was steady and then let him go.

“Bugger me, when did you learn to do that?” he asked, astonished. “It don’t hurt at all now.”

Patrick just smiled, patting Richard on the opposite shoulder. “Glad to be of service. Goodnight, sir.”

And he got up and disappeared.

Richard stared after him, hand still on the injury.

Patrick used that talent on Richard many times after that, silently sitting with him on sleepless nights or taking notice when Richard was carrying himself differently, but no matter how Richard tried to pry he never did give up how he’d gotten it.


End file.
